Thursday, March 4, 2010

Earth-349: Iron Maiden

Disclaimer #1: This story is inspired by a story in Superman #349, butis not limited by that story or any other.Disclaimer #2: This story makes use of copyrighted characters owned byDC Comics, Inc., Marvel Comics, King Features Syndicate, and otherpublishers. It is written for amusement only and is not intended toinfringe or disparage those copyrights.Disclaimer #3: This story is not recommended for persons under 18 or theeasily offended, especially those who are uncomfortable with themes suchas transvestism and transgender.

The contrast between the two men on the platform was sharp. One wastall and powerfully built, with a body that seemed to have been carvedfrom a single block of lustrous bronze. Bareheaded, his brown hairfitted to his head like a skullcap. His lightweight tan suit showed offhis flawlessly developed muscles, with only a black sweater vest as aconcession to the cold.The other man was tall, but looked puny next to his companion. Bundledin a black greatcoat, the lower half of his face obscured by a red woolmuffler, broad-brimmed hat pulled low, only his intense, deepset eyesand prominent nose were visible.Wordlessly, the two men faced each other. The larger man smiled. Theother might have, but it seemed unlikely. They placed their hands on apair of old-fashioned knife switches and, after a brief pause, threwthem both.The cameras captured the gray concrete wall behind them, as a sectionwide as a boulevard suddenly leapt into the air in a cloud. A momentlater, microphones transmitted the thunder of the explosion.The explosion was still echoing, the cloud still rising, when theRepublikswehr pioneers advanced to clear away the rubble. With shovels,crowbars, wheelbarrows and small bulldozers, they cleared the remainsof the demolished wall within minutes. They took care not to movefurther inward than they needed to to remove the rubble blocking the road.The cameras moved closer, showing that the road did indeed continue beyondthe wall. But with no maintenance for two decades, the road beyond thewall was little better than rubble itself.Now the two men stood outside the opening in the wall. But neither ofthem would be the first to walk on that road. They waited for a smallyoung man with snow-white hair, who led a little black-haired girl by thehand. The men, the pioneers and the large crowd watching behind thecameras were reverently silent as the pair passed through the wall andinto the newly opened city.Only after Richard Heinrich Benz, Chancellor of Germany, had officiallyescorted little Anna Berlin into the city, were they joined by KennethRobeson, President of the United States, and Maxim Griantov, Premier ofthe Soviet Union.The announcer, "the" newsreader to American audiences, had restrainedhimself while the wall was being broken. Now he began speaking softly."The breaking of the Berlin Wall marks a great transition indeed. Notonly is the city at Europe's heart returning to life, but the wholeworld seems to be breathing easier. With the nuclear disarmament accord,the partition of Indochina, and the withdrawal of U.S. and Soviet forcesfrom Europe, most agree that it is safe to say the Cold War is over. Thethreat which hung over the heads of us all for nearly two decades has beenremoved, and . . . ."Tony's view of the TV set blurred, and he knew he was crying. It hadbeen so long since he'd been able to cry. It felt good. It didn't hurt.The knot in his chest was untying, it didn't --""Burn."The Mandarin held out his right hand, palm up, middle finger extended.Tony knew that the gesture was not obscene in Chinese culture. But inthis case, the effect certainly was.A beam of red heat shot from the villain's hand, not seeming tooriginate from the ring on his extended finger, but from some aurasurrounding him. Tony didn't really understand how the alienrings worked. He supposed the Mandarin didn't, either.Although he dressed in the fashion of an old-time mandarin, even daringto affect the coral button on his cap that rightly belonged only to oneconfirmed in office by the Emperor, Tony knew that his old foe was reallyjust another of the bandits who harassed the local people in the lawlessregion around China's southern border. Or had been, before he stumbledacross the alien power rings, and learned to use them.Inside the armor of Iron Maiden, Anthony Stark writhed in agony and waitedfor the end. Sooner or later, the Mandarin's heat ray would destroy thepacemaker in his breastplate, and the remains of his heart would stopbeating, and the pain would go away at last. Either that, or his painwould only have begun.I went searching in my memory for a happy time, trying to hide from thepain. Apparently, the happiest moment of my recent life was watchingnews on TV. What does that say about my life?The heat ray stopped. The Mandarin looked down at the charred armor andturned his hand over, extending the index and middle fingers together."Heal."The ray was golden and shimmering, quite beautiful. Tony wondered ifthe Mandarin had chosen its appearance. The excruciating pain ofsecond-degree burns lessened, faded to an itch, vanished. His brainwas slapped out of an advanced state of shock, allowed no rest. Thealternate burning and healing had been going on for hours now, andTony's mind was suffering the effects of pain greater than the humanbody could normally endure. But he knew that worse was coming.The Mandarin stood over the blackened, pitted shell of the Iron Maidenarmor.Tony wondered how much of the breastplate was left, when theMandarin would begin to notice how the breasts were being eaten away,how much skin was showing through the holes. Sooner or later, theMandarin would realize that the body inside the armor wasn't reallythat of a tall, muscular woman with prominent breasts. What he woulddo to his prisoner then would make the current abuse seem kindly.Tony Stark had always taken comfort in escaping from his life as anindustrialist and social aristocrat into the guise of an elegantlydressed lady.When shrapnel had lacerated his heart and made him dependent on a metalbreastplate for survival, he had not been able to resist the temptationof giving it breasts, of building a suit of powered armor that was anextension of his secret store of gowns and makeup, a red and gold outfitthat was, he thought, his finest design ever. Now, his imposture wasabout to be revealed to his deadliest enemy, and the pain of the burningrays was almost welcome, since it blotted out the shame he felt as hecowered in the remnants of his disguise.He only had one chance of escaping the full wrath of the Mandarin: goadhim into using too much heat, trick him into killing him quickly.Tony raised a blackened arm. The strength-boosting motors were dead,making it an effort to lift the arm. He extended a finger, seeingcharred metal flaking off of perfect pink skin. He pointed to thestudded circle on the breast of the Mandarin's robe."If you're a Nationalist, why aren't you on Taiwan with your preciousGeneralissimo?"Tony knew what the symbol really meant, but he hoped to goad theMandarin into attacking.The gaunt Chinese villain did not fire again, but merely curled his lipin disdain."This sacred sign does not belong to those Kuomintang cowards. It isthe symbol of a far older and worthier movement, in support of the trueleaders of China, a cause the so-called Nationalists once supported buthave now forsaken."He thumped his chest, striking the center of the stylized chrysanthemum."I serve the cause of every true Chinese patriot: the restoration of thedivinely-appointed dynasty of the Ming!"Tony forced a laugh. He noticed that the electronic voice filter wasstill working, giving Iron Maiden a feminine contralto voice."You're a little late, aren't you? That was a couple of dynasties ago.There aren't any Ming left."The villain smiled."Oh, wench, but you are wrong. There is a prince of the house of Mingstill living."He gestured towards the ceiling."He is out there, among the stars, ruler of a mighty realm. But one dayhe will return to us, and when he does, he will be generous with his loyalsubjects. And to traitors and foreign pigs, he will be . . . merciless!"Tony wanted to laugh at this belief, but his heart wasn't in it. Afterall, the Mandarin's own rings had come from space. Some people saidSuperwoman herself was an alien. But he would try to put some feelinginto his mockery.Pathetic as he was, held down by his ruined armor, he had to find someway to make the Mandarin lose his temper. Some way to bring on a quickdeath rather than the torments and mutilations the outlaw would inflictupon him once he knew he'd been cheated of the opportunity to make IronMaiden his concubine.He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a thunderclapfrom outside, followed moments later by an immense crash that spokeof splintered timber and pulverized concrete. A wall fell open likea drawn curtain, and sunlight entered the room. The Mandarin fled forthe door, firing rays of a dozen colors at the huge body that stoodframed in the sunlight, and the flying figure that joined it, addingits own light to the room.Thunderstrike lumbered after the Mandarin, but the Human Torch snuffedher flame and bent over Tony. In a moment the Atom was appearing fromtiny obscurity, using her more-than-normal-sized strength to pry awaythe ruins of Iron Maiden's armor.Foolishly, Tony tried to cross his arms over his chest, to protecthis secret for a moment longer, but that only sped up the crumbling ofthe charred shell. As the Torch helped him to a sitting position, thelast of the breastplate fell away, and Tony realized that it had to havebeen wrecked long since. How many minutes, perhaps hours, had his heartbeen beating on its own? The Mandarin's healing rays must have workedeven better than either man had suspected.As the Torch brushed away crumbs of char and examined Tony's body, hewondered at his comrades' calm in the face of his unmasking. His fellowAvengers were showing no sign of the shock they must feel at finding a man,a notorious womanizer, under their teammate's armor.The Torch and the Atom wrapped Tony in a throw taken from a couch. Theywere carrying him towards the hole in the wall when Thunderstrike returned,jamming her hammer into her belt."The base villain did flee, abandoning his stronghold," she boomed."And I would suggest we make a more seemly retreat, for the forces of theChinese Communists do approach in haste. Though it was we ourselves who didrout the rogue, and apprise his enemies of this fortress's whereabouts, Ifear we will not be much welcome amongst them."As Thunderstrike easily scooped Tony's body into her arms, he exchangedglances with the other Avengers. Their concern mirrored his own. At first,Donna had only used that pseudo-Elizabethan dialect when there werereporters around, but lately she'd been acting more and more like shereally believed the mysterious object she carried was Thor's own Mjolnir,as though she thought she was some figure from bastardized myth. Everytime Donna St. James transformed herself, Thunderstrike seemed to be lesslike Donna.Tony feared they were heading to a confrontation over this obsession of hers.Thunderstrike carried Tony to the waiting chariot, her Clydesdale-sizedgoats already prancing impatiently. The Torch, as usual, was humming "IGot Plenty of Nothin'". Jostling in Thunderstrike's arms, Tony marveledat how good he really did feel, now that the accumulated shocks of burningand healing were fading. He moved his fingers, flexed his legs. Butsomething wasn't quite right. It felt as though a flap of torn musclewere lying on his chest. He reached up, fingers probing delicately.His hand froze as it closed on something that could not, could not, befinally there, after all those years of wishing.Unless, perhaps, the Mandarin's healing rays could heal better thananyone had ever suspected....

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Life is full of surprises. This blog (and its predecessor, misterniceguy1960) was originally created for me to advertise for a lover. Later, it served as a brag-diary about my sexual exploits. Now, I am committed to a monogamous relationship with my wife. Surprise.